


Sunrise, Sunset

by ThreeCrowsInATrenchcoat



Series: Wash Away the Rain (Winter Soldier AU) [9]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Army Veteran Virgil, College Student Logan, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nurse Patton, Panic Attacks, Swearing, Team Let Virgil Say Fuck, Trans Male Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Trans Male Character, i think that's it let me know if i missed any tags, nothing too in-depth, some discussion about his medical transition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:16:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27995901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeCrowsInATrenchcoat/pseuds/ThreeCrowsInATrenchcoat
Summary: Virgil hesitated at the door, fingers tightening around his phone until the cheap plastic case gave a warning crack. The coffee shop looked fairly busy inside. It made sense; this close to campus, it was bound to be filled with sleep-deprived students desperately seeking to push their way through just a few more hours of coursework. It made sense; that didn’t mean he had to like it.The door swung toward him, pushed open from the inside by a departing customer, and Virgil jumped back to give them room. His erratic movements earned him an odd look, but honestly, what else was new.For a brief moment, Virgil entertained the idea of turning around and leaving. Going back to his shitty motel room and just staying there forever. He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready for this.But, then again, his motel room was filled with cockroaches.(or: Virgil is fresh out of the army and has almost nothing to his name. Over time, he begins to build a life for himself.)
Series: Wash Away the Rain (Winter Soldier AU) [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929958
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Sunrise, Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I have for you: a prequel. 
> 
> This story takes place about seven years prior to "sounded like the truth" and follows Virgil through his first several months out of the army. You do not need to have read the previous parts to this story (though I highly recommend it!!) 
> 
> Virgil has two panic attacks in this story. I do not go into heavy detail, but feel free to check the end notes for their exact locations in the text if you would like to skip. There is also some discussion of Virgil's medical transition, but I don't go into detail about it. Feel free to ask if you want clarification on any of the tags. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Virgil hesitated at the door, fingers tightening around his phone until the cheap plastic case gave a warning crack. The coffee shop looked fairly busy inside. It made sense; this close to campus, it was bound to be filled with sleep-deprived students desperately seeking to push their way through just a few more hours of coursework. It made sense; that didn’t mean he had to like it. 

The door swung toward him, pushed open from the inside by a departing customer, and Virgil jumped back to give them room. His erratic movements earned him an odd look, but honestly, what else was new. 

For a brief moment, Virgil entertained the idea of turning around and leaving. Going back to his shitty motel room and just staying there forever. He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready for this. 

But, then again, his motel room was filled with cockroaches. 

Virgil yanked open the door and rushed inside before he could talk himself out of it. 

The interior of the shop was warm and brightly-lit, decorated in a “modern chic” sort of style that, in Virgil’s opinion, was just trying too hard. Especially given the majority of the clientele seemed to be made up of students too exhausted to give two shits what the place looked like. It was busy but at least it was relatively quiet; only a few tables held conversing groups, while the rest were occupied by lone students half-hidden behind mounds of books or their laptop screens. 

Virgil paused- or, more accurately, he hesitated- and glanced down at his phone.

_ Any time before five will be fine,  _ read the last text in the conversation.  _ I will not have my phone while I am working, so just ask for me at the registers.  _

It sounded so easy. And for anyone else, it probably was. But Virgil had to swallow down his mounting panic before he could even  _ think _ about approaching the counter, let alone actually do it. It was just… the shuffle of people crossing in front of and behind him as he stood adrift in the middle of the shop frayed his nerves in a way it hadn’t used to. He was too aware of how visible he was, out in the open with the large windows at his back, the path to the exit obstructed by tables and chairs. He was too aware of everyone  _ looking _ at him. 

Virgil’s hand tightened around his phone again, and he approached the counter. 

“Hey, welcome in! What can I get you?”

Virgil flinched slightly at the barista’s overly-bright tone. It must have been visible, because she gave him an odd look. 

“Uh,” he forced out. “I’m looking for Logan?” 

The barista’s expression shifted from confusion, to surprise, to something that could almost be called delight. She gave him a wry smile. 

“Here to see Logan, eh?” she said, sounding almost conspiratorial. 

“...Yes?” Virgil said, since he really didn’t know what else to say. That only seemed to delight her further.

“I’ve been telling him he needs a boyfriend! I didn’t think you’d be his type though-”

“Oh, no, uh-” Virgil started, a little frantic, but it was too late. The barista was already turning away. 

“Logan! Your cute boyfriend is here to see you!”

Virgil’s entire body instantly felt heavy with dread as every single employee behind the counter stopped what they were doing to look at him. He was seized by the sudden and intense need for the floor to open up beneath him so that he could be literally anywhere else but here. 

That didn’t happen, unfortunately. 

One of the employees, who actually looked almost as mortified as Virgil felt, passed off whatever drink he was making and moved quickly toward the cash registers. 

“Sophia, no, please do not jump to conclusions like this,” the young man sighed. He turned to look at Virgil through his thick-framed glasses. “Virgil, I presume?”

Virgil, even though he still kind of wanted the ground to swallow him up, nodded.

“Excellent. If you would go ahead and choose a table, I will join you. I just need to clock out first.” He paused, and turned a scathing look toward the barista who was watching them both way too intently. “Sophia, I am going on my lunch.”

Virgil didn’t stick around to hear her response. He fled immediately to an open table on the far side of the shop. 

Logan- because even though he hadn’t actually  _ introduced  _ himself, it had to be Logan, right? Virgil hadn’t thought to ask for a picture over text, cause that would have been weird, right? But maybe he should have, so he knew he was meeting with the right person, and oh god now his thoughts were spiraling, get it together, man- approached the table a few minutes later. He had taken off the apron he’d been wearing behind the counter, to reveal a black polo shirt and a pale blue tie. Virgil wasn’t exactly surprised to see he dressed exactly like he texted. He also carried two cups, one of which he set down in front of Virgil. 

“Oh, uh… I didn’t actually order anything…” Virgil said hesitantly. 

“I know. Sophia sent it as an apology if she embarrassed you,” Logan said as he sat down in the chair across from Virgil. “Nosy coworkers aside, I do appreciate you agreeing to meet me here. I’m afraid between work and classes, and my lack of a personal means of transit, it’s rather difficult for me to meet people elsewhere.”

“Oh, uh… yeah, it’s no problem,” Virgil replied, even though he hadn’t fully processed every word Logan had just thrown at him. 

“At any rate, I realize I have not actually introduced myself. I am Logan, it is a pleasure to meet you in person, Virgil.” He paused and adjusted his glasses, which gave Virgil just enough time to respond to his greeting with an awkward little wave. Then, he continued, “I assume since you actually showed up that you are still interested in the room?”

“Yeah, I, uh… I’m still interested, if it’s still, like. Available?” Virgil shifted uncomfortably in his seat. This was the part he really hated. The  _ talking. _ He would have been perfectly fine doing this all over text, but Logan had insisted they meet in person first. Probably to make sure he wasn't an axe murderer. Which, honestly, was fair. 

“Yes, it is still available. I would like to have the room filled as soon as possible. My previous roommate left rather suddenly, and I cannot afford the full rent on my own.”

“I could move in, like, tomorrow,” Virgil mumbled. He was only about twenty-five percent joking. “I, uh… I just got out of the army. I’m living in a motel right now.”

The inquisitive look on Logan’s face faded at the explanation, though it didn’t go away completely. But, he nodded. “Understandable. Do you have any pets?”

“Pets?” As if he could take care of a pet right now when he could barely take care of himself. “No.”

“Do you smoke?”

“No.” His best friend had mocked that habit right out of him when they were still in high school. 

“Do you intend on hosting parties at the apartment on a regular basis?” 

Virgil couldn’t help the dry chuckle at the mere thought. “I’m really not much for parties,” he said. “Too loud.” And it’s not like he knew anybody here anyway. 

Logan seemed oddly pleased by that answer. He took a sip from his cup, which reminded Virgil that he’d been given his own cup, so he took a tentative sip himself. It was a plain latte, but it was good. Sure, his standards weren’t high. So long as it was at least lukewarm and caffeinated, he’d like it. But it was good. 

“I think we will get along,” Logan said finally. Whatever the hell  _ that _ meant. Then he fixed Virgil with an odd look. “Were you serious about wanting to move in tomorrow?”

Virgil shrugged. “Everything I own is already packed up.”

“I have the day off work tomorrow.”

“Are you asking me to move in?”

“I am offering you the room, at the rate we have discussed, yes.”

Vigil felt relief wash over him at those words, and he was speaking before his mind had fully processed them. “Yes, please. That would be great.”

\- - -

“What do you want to do, when we’re out?”

“I dunno, Jan. Four years is kind of a long time. I haven’t really thought about it.”

“You should go to college. You always said you wanted to go learn about robots or whatever.”

“Yeah, I’ll just go get a degree in  _ ‘robots or whatever.’ _ Great idea.”

“I’m serious, Virgil. You’re so smart.”

“Okay. What about you?”

“I have to count on my fingers to add. I don’t think they’d let me into robot school.”

“You know what I mean, jerk.”

“I don’t know. Getting out of that town was all we wanted to do for so long. I don’t really know what comes next.”

“If you could do anything at all, though?”

“Anything? ...Well… don’t laugh.”

“I won’t.”

“...I think it would be nice to open a flower shop.”

\- - -

Virgil moved in the next day. Logan’s ad had said the room was furnished, and Virgil was grateful to learn that was, indeed, the case. All he had to his name was four suitcases, filled with clothes, books, and a few sentimental knick-knacks. And as much testosterone as he’d been able to get his hands on, because he didn’t know how long it would take to find a new doctor in this city. And the VA was basically useless when it came to trans stuff. 

So all in all, moving in took like an hour. Logan showed him where he could park his truck, then helped him carry his suitcases up the three flights of stairs to the apartment and gave him the grand tour. Which wasn’t very grand- it was a dirt-cheap apartment in what could only be described as the “collegetown ghetto," where all the students whose parents weren’t paying their bills lived- but there wasn’t a single cockroach in sight, so Virgil took it as a win. 

Frankly, Virgil felt he’d gotten very lucky. Logan was the perfect roommate in that he left Virgil alone pretty much all the time. Between work and class, he was gone a lot, but when he was around, he was quiet. And he didn’t seem to mind that Virgil was quiet, too. 

So things were fine. Good, really. He had a place to live that he could afford. The government was going to pay his tuition when he was ready to start classes. He was starting a new life in a new city where nobody had any reason to suspect that “Virgil” wasn’t his birth name.

Now if only the damn nightmares would stop.

They started a few weeks after he’d moved in. His therapist had said it might happen, but Virgil had been stubbornly holding onto his belief that he was  _ fine: _ that the anxiety would go away as he got used to being a civilian again, that the memories would go away because he wasn’t  _ there _ anymore. But all his hopes were dashed the first night he woke up in a cold sweat with the sound of gunfire in his ears, and the images of death flashing across his eyes. 

He hadn’t seen much combat, at least not in the way people who played too much Call of Duty thought of it. That didn’t really exist these days. Instead it was insurgents and bombs, and a lot of standing around being hated by the locals. There wasn’t a war to fight or a country to defend; just places to occupy that the U.S. had no business occupying. When he was eighteen, he hadn’t cared. He and his best friend had just wanted to get out of their shitty little hometown. But now that he was twenty-three, he did care. Because not only did he now recognize a lot of the things he’d seen the army do as just plain wrong, he’d  _ done _ a lot of those things. 

And apparently, his brain wasn’t going to let him forget it. 

“Are you ok?” Logan asked him one morning, when Virgil dragged himself, bleary-eyed, into the kitchen at almost eleven o’clock. “You look tired.”

“Yeah, I’m… fine.” Virgil said. It sounded like a lie. It probably was. “Don’t you have class today?"

Logan looked vaguely concerned. “Virgil, it’s Saturday.”

“Oh.” Virgil glanced down at his phone. So it was.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Logan asked again.

“Everything’s fine.”

Logan didn’t ask anymore, and Virgil continued to have nightmares almost every night. 

He ran out of testosterone eventually. He knew he would, it just happened sooner than he would have liked. He still hadn’t called that clinic his therapist had recommended; the business card still sat in the top drawer of the nightstand. But he hadn’t been off T since that really terrible first few months of boot camp, and dammit, he wasn’t going to let a little phone anxiety make him go through that again. 

Ok, well, it took another week, and he could  _ feel _ his body starting to rebel, but he finally picked up the damn phone and got himself an appointment. 

And that night, he woke up screaming. 

He couldn’t even really be sure what exactly he’d been dreaming about, which was the worst part about the whole thing. His dreams were such a convoluted mess of pictures, sounds, and feelings, to the point that all he knew for sure was that he wasn’t safe, and he could taste blood in his mouth.

There was a banging sound on his door, and he flinched at the sound, throwing his arms up to protect his face from whatever was about to blow up.

There was no explosion. Instead, he heard a frantic voice call out, “Virgil? Virgil, are you ok?”

Was he? He didn’t know where he was. He tried to get up, to move to the door, but his legs were shaking so badly he stumbled and collapsed on the floor. The banging sound happened again.

“Virgil, please answer me. Are you ok?”

Virgil opened his mouth to answer, but only a choked sob escaped. He curled in on himself, and tried desperately to breathe. 

“Virgil, I’m coming in.”

The door creaked open, light from the hallway spilling into the room and making Virgil wince. 

“Virgil, hey, what happened?”

There was someone kneeling beside him. He could feel the weight of a hand extended toward him, moving to touch him, and he flinched away from it. He still couldn’t find his voice; it was drowning somewhere beneath the waves of fear and panic that crashed against him. 

The hand retracted, and the person beside him shifted slightly. 

“...Did you know, it was the primary belief for a very long time that the earth was the center of our solar system?”

Those words were spoken softly, a sharp contrast to the earlier shouting. Virgil kept his face buried in his arms, but as the words kept coming, he found they were easy to focus on.

“There were a number of astronomical models proposed by ancient Greek and Roman astronomers, but no one really considered a heliocentric model until Nicholas Copernicus in the 1500s. It was an incredibly radical proposition at the time. It completely altered the scientific worldview, and it was another hundred or so years before anyone was bold enough to actually prove his theories-” 

Virgil had no idea how long the words went on for, but he hung onto each and every one of them. Gradually, his breathing slowed, and he became aware of his surroundings: the scratchy carpet beneath him, the side of the bed he’d pressed himself up against, the off-white walls of his bedroom which looked yellow in the light streaming in from the hallway. Logan was there, sitting on the floor next to him, wearing pajama pants with the NASA logo printed on them, talking about dark energy and something called the Big Freeze.

“Logan?” he rasped, voice grating against his throat. Logan stopped mid-sentence and turned to look at him.

“Virgil. Welcome back.” 

\- - -

“Virgil. Hey, Virgil, I need you to listen to me. You’re ok. You’re safe. Can you take a deep breath for me? Breathe in for four seconds… yes, that’s it. Now hold onto that breath, ok? Hold onto it for seven seconds. Focus on that breath. Good job. Ok, now breathe out for eight seconds. Yes, slowly, just like that. And again, Virgil. Focus on your breathing.”

“J...Janus?”

“Yes, Virgil, I’m here. You’re safe. Breathe in for me again, ok?”

\- - -

Virgil was pleasantly surprised by his new doctor. Maybe it was because his expectations had been so low they were basically on the floor, but regardless, he actually managed to feel relatively at ease. 

A nurse took his vitals- a bright and bubbly man named Patton- and after that, he was in and out with a new prescription and, because he’d actually felt brave enough to ask, a pamphlet of top surgery information. 

Virgil, of course, didn’t say anything to Logan about being trans, because why the hell would he? Logan was smart, though- almost too smart sometimes- and there was no way he didn’t figure it out. Especially not after Virgil accidentally left a vial of testosterone out on the counter in their shared bathroom. Oops. But Logan didn’t say anything about it, aside from informing Virgil that it was there; and it was that non-reaction that gave Virgil the courage to, four months into living with Logan, ask for the favor he’d been dreading asking for.

“Hey, uh… Logan?”

Logan looked up from the notes and textbooks he had spread out across the kitchen table. “Yes, Virgil?”

“I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor?”

“Certainly, though I cannot say until I hear it if it is something I am able to do.”

“Well, uh. I’m planning on… or well, I need to… schedule a, uh. A surgery, sometime in the next month or two.” Virgil’s hands went to the hem of his oversized hoodie, worrying at the seam as he spoke. “And I can’t drive myself home afterwards.” 

“If you are comfortable allowing me to drive your truck, then I would be happy to drive you home.” A flicker of concern passed over Logan’s face, and he seemed to hesitate a moment before adding, “I hope it’s nothing serious?”

“Oh, no, it’s… uh, no, it’s not,” Virgil said quickly. He felt oddly touched. “But, uh… thank you. I really appreciate it, Logan, and I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

Logan frowned slightly. “We needn’t be transactional about this, Virgil. It is my understanding that friends perform favors for each other occasionally.”

Virgil was torn between being startled by the implication that Logan considered him a friend and not just a roommate, and wondering why it sounded like Logan had never actually  _ had _ a friend before. And since he wasn’t really sure how to respond to either of those thoughts, Virgil just said, “Oh… yeah, ok. Sounds good. Thank you, Logan.”

“Of course,” Logan responded. He turned his attention back to his coursework as if he hadn’t just caused Virgil to have a small-but-sudden existential crisis over the fact that apparently they were  _ friends. _

The surgery, when it finally happened, went well. Patton helped prep him, which Virgil was grateful for- he’d only seen the man a few times, but a familiar face calmed his nerves. Even if the dad jokes made him groan.

(Patton had greeted him the morning of his surgery by bursting into the room with a shit-eating grin and exclaiming, “So Virgil! I hear you need to get something off your chest?” Virgil would deny laughing at that one until the day he died.)

He healed slowly, but well, and he was actually starting to feel, for the first time in a long time,  _ good. _

Which was of course when his brain decided it was tired of cooperating with him. In the grocery store of all places.

Virgil was standing in the bread aisle, and was carefully weighing one brand of shitty white bread against another brand of shitty white bread. He was already on edge- it was his first time out in public after almost a month of recovery, and everything was louder than he remembered it being. He’d already needed to ask an employee to grab something for him, because it was on a shelf too high for him to reach at this particular stage of post-op. And then they were out of the pasta sauce he liked, which really should not have upset him as much as it did. And then he was sure it was just a coincidence, but he’d seen that guy in the last four aisles, and Virgil was starting to feel like he was being followed. 

But the thing that did it, the thing he would have to admit to his therapist later after so many weeks in a row of zero panic attacks, was the kid who walked behind him watching a video on his phone without headphones. Later Virgil would figure it had probably been a video game stream or something. But at the time, all Virgil knew was that he heard the sound of gunfire behind him, and his body instantly kicked into fight or flight mode. 

He rounded on the kid behind him, but the sudden movement pulled his healing incisions tight and made him flinch. His basket of groceries hit the ground before he even realized he’d dropped it, and a moment later, he was running. 

He rounded the corner in a blind panic and collided full-bodied with another person. He felt hands close around his shoulders, steadying him, and then a voice.

“Woah there, kiddo, are you alri- oh. Virgil?”

Virgil blinked up at the man he had nearly bowled over trying to get to the exit, but the adrenaline pulsing through him made him dizzy and frantic, and he couldn’t place the bright smile and gentle eyes he was met with. He felt his shoulders start to tremble.

“Oh gosh, ok, let’s get you outside for some fresh air, ok? Are you here alone?”

Virgil couldn’t find his voice. He nodded. The man gave him an encouraging smile that looked so, so familiar. Then the hands on his shoulders moved gently down his arms and came to rest on his own hands.

“Hey, I’m gonna need you to give me that, ok?”

Virgil glanced down. There was a loaf of bread smashed in his grasp. He could have sworn it was an M4. 

Gradually he released his death drip on the bread. The man set it on the nearest shelf. Then, his hands now in Virgil’s, he very slowly led him outside. They sat down on a bench some distance from the entrance. 

“There you go, kiddo. You’re totally safe here, ok? Just take some deep breaths.”

Virgil did. He wasn’t sure how much time passed while he sat there and concentrated on his breathing and his breathing alone. It may have been minutes or it may have been hours; but gradually, his hands stopped shaking and the adrenaline in his veins faded into weariness. He looked up to see-

“Patton?”

Patton beamed at him. “Hey, kiddo! You were really gone there for a little bit. How are you feeling?”

“I, uh…” Virgil glanced around. He still felt on-edge, and a little disoriented. When he couldn’t figure out what to say, he stayed silent. Patton patted him gently on the arm.

“Maybe we should get you home, what do you think?”

Virgil nodded dumbly and fished in his pocket for his keys. Which he promptly dropped on the ground when the sound of shopping carts being dragged in from the parking lot made him jump. Patton quickly picked up the keys and pressed them back into Virgil’s hand.

“No, kiddo, I don’t think you should be driving right now.”

“I-I’m just down the street-” Virgil tried.

“I’ll drive you, if that’s ok,” Patton said. His voice was so gentle and earnest, and Virgil was just so. Tired. He nodded.

He really did live right down the street. Patton helped him climb those three flights of stairs and, because Virgil’s hands had started shaking again on the drive over, took the apartment key and unlocked the door for him.

Logan was at the kitchen table. He glanced up curiously when the door opened.

“Virgil? Is… everything alright?” he asked, eyes on Patton. Virgil stepped into the apartment. His voice still felt too raw and shaky, so he glanced back to where Patton lingered in the doorway, hoping he might explain.

“Oh,” Patton started, seeming to understand. “Yes, everything is ok. Just a bit of a panic attack at the grocery store, that’s all! Luckily he ran into me.” He giggled softly at that, but did not clarify that he meant the last part literally.

Logan frowned slightly and looked over to where Virgil had collapsed onto the couch.

“I see,” he said. “Thank you for ensuring he got home safely. Patton, was it?”

Patton brightened up. “Oh, gosh, I didn’t think you’d remember me, you were only there to pick up Virgil.” 

Logan shrugged. When he didn’t seem to have an answer, Patton gave a small wave. 

“Anywho, I’ll get out of your hair. Virgil, kiddo, I hope you feel better. Maybe drink some water if you can.”

Virgil nodded, and managed to force out a shaky, “Thank you.”

Patton gave them each one last smile, then pulled the apartment door shut behind him as he departed. 

Logan turned to look at Virgil, and sighed. But then he brought Virgil a glass of water and turned on the Great British Bake-Off, and they sat together on the couch in comfortable silence for the rest of the afternoon. 

Signing up for classes felt like such an unbelievably huge and important step that it took Virgil literally right up until the enrollment deadline to do it. The incident at the grocery store had a lot to do with it, because he couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t have a similar experience on campus, in front of classmates he would have to see again and again until the end of the semester; that thought alone almost sent him into a panic. 

It was actually Patton who got him to sign up in time. At his final post-op check-up, Patton asked him how he was doing.

“I mean… I haven’t had another freakout in the grocery store if that’s what you’re asking.”

Patton giggled at that, but at the same time somehow managed to make it clear he wasn’t laughing  _ at _ Virgil. “No, silly, that’s not what I meant. I’m glad to hear that of course, but I just meant in general!”

Virgil felt the instinctual reply of  _ I’m fine _ rise to his tongue, but he bit off the words before he could say them. Because it was Patton, he actually took a minute to think about the question.

“I… I guess I just. I kinda feel in limbo, you know?” he sighed. “I’m doing a lot better now than I was six months ago, but. I’m not fixed yet.”

“Aw, kiddo.” Patton set his clipboard aside so he could take Virgil’s hands in his. “You don’t need to be fixed. You’re not broken.”

Virgil scoffed at that, but immediately felt bad when he saw Patton’s expression fall. “I just, I don’t really feel like I’m doing, like. Better  _ enough _ to do the things I want to do.”

“Well, what is it that’s stopping you?”

“I, uh…” Virgil had to think for another few moments before he could answer honestly. “...Fear, I guess. I want to go to school, but I’m afraid of getting out of my comfort zone.”

“But you also feel a little trapped inside your comfort zone?”

Virgil just nodded. Patton squeezed his hand gently. 

“I get it,” he said. “It’s really easy to get to a place where you’re comfortable, but then be afraid to take risks trying to move forward. You know, I’ve been working here way longer than I meant to. When I got out of the nursing program, I told myself I would work for a year, then go back to become a nurse practitioner.” He gave an awkward little laugh. “That was three years ago.”

“Do you still want to go back?”

“I do.” Patton smiled warmly. “And you know what? I’m going to. I’ve decided right here, right now. You're my witness!”

Virgil blinked at him. “Just like that?”

“Just like that. See, it’s not so hard!”

“I… I guess not,” Virgil admitted slowly. 

“If I can do it, you can do it, Virge!”

Patton looked so incredibly encouraging and proud in that moment, that Virgil couldn’t help but believe it. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“Yeah, ok... Ok, when I get home, I’ll register for classes.”

“That’s the spirit!”

“Wait, if you’re going back to school, does… that mean I won’t see you here anymore?”

“Oh,” Patton looked a little distressed. “Yeah, I guess not…”

There was a beat of awkward silence. Virgil wondered if he should even ask what he was about to ask- like, it was probably weird right? It was probably-

“Do you wanna, like, meet up sometime and hang out?” he asked before his mind could spiral too far. “You can tell me about your classes and I can tell you about mine? You know, like… accountability and encouragement and all that… sorry, that’s probably weird, you don’t have to-”

“Virgil,” Patton cut him off. He was beaming. “I would love that.”

\- - -

“For fuck’s sake, Janus, can’t you just listen to me for one fucking second-”

“Oh of  _ course, _ I do so  _ love _ sitting here being told I’m an idiot,  _ do _ go on.”

“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it!”

“Oh really? Then you didn’t say  _ ’Janus you’re being stupid’ _ not two minutes ago?”

“You’re being stupid, yeah, but-”

“I sure don’t see a difference-”

“Just shut up and  _ listen _ to me for once in your goddamn life-”

“For once in my life, Virgil? I’ve done nothing  _ but _ listen to you, why do you think I’m here? I let you lead me all the way into the fucking  _ army.” _

“You didn’t have to do that! Nobody made you-”

_ ”You _ made me, Virgil.” 

“You’re being unfair-”

“And I’ve stood by you through every single one of your terrible decisions. This whole time, I’ve let you hold me back-”

“Hold you back from  _ what? _ You’ve never gone after a single thing in your  _ life. _ How the hell can I hold you back if you’re never even trying for anything?”

“...You have no idea the things I’ve turned down to stay here with you.”

“Janus, I-”

“But fine. You want me to  _ ‘aspire’?  _ You want me to make something of myself, so you don’t have to deal with me hanging around you all the time?”

“That’s not what I fucking said Janus, get your goddamn head out of your ass and  _ listen _ to me-”

“Fuck off. I don’t even want to look at you right now.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Do I not? You’re right, I meant I don’t want to look at you again  _ ever.” _

“You’re being dramatic-”

“Don’t touch me, Virgil.”

“...Fine. Whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow. Have your damn head on straight by then, Jesus fucking Christ.” 

\- - -

Virgil met Patton at the same coffee shop where he’d first come to meet Logan almost nine months ago. This wasn’t their first coffee meet-up, but they’d both gotten very busy with classes. Now that the semester was over, they finally had the time to get together for the first time in a month and a half. 

“Virgil!” Patton exclaimed, waving him over from across the shop. As Virgil approached, Patton spread his arms out for a hug, but let Virgil decide if he wanted one. He did, of course- Patton’s hugs were the best. Patton squeezed him tightly, then released him so they could each take a seat.

“How did your finals go? Did you get your grades back yet?”

“Uh… yeah, I did.” Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a little bashful. “Straight A’s.”

“Woah, really!?” Patton’s grin was so wide it looked almost painful. His eyes were bright. “I’m so proud of you, kiddo! See, I knew you could do it!”

“Logan helped a ton… I didn’t have a clue what I was doing in Chemistry…”

“I’m sure he loved helping you out!”

He did. Logan got this look of pure joy on his face whenever Virgil brought him a question. It was kind of adorable. “What about you, Pat?”

“Oh! Yes, finals were good! I still have some clinical hours to get in over the break, but everything else is good.”

Virgil smiled. It was small, but sincere. “I’m proud of you, too.”

“Aw, shucks!” Patton smiled back at him. At this point, Logan approached their table, with their drinks in hand. Patton brightened up at his approach. “Heya, Logan! How are you?”

“Hello, Patton.” Logan set their drinks down on the table and wiped his hands off on his apron. “I am doing well. And yourself?”

“I’m great! I didn’t know you were still working here?”

“Ah, well hopefully not for much longer. I have been hired on as a tutor by the engineering school next semester.”

“Hey, that’s great!”

Logan grimaced slightly. “The work is preferable, but the pay may not be enough. Our lease is up next month, and the landlord is trying to either raise our rent or kick us out.”

Virgil grimaced too. If their rent went up, he would need to find a job, and he wasn’t sure he was quite mentally stable enough to balance both work and school.

“Oh gosh, that’s really mean!” Patton exclaimed, crossing his arms. He almost looked like a kid about to throw a tantrum. But then a thoughtful look crossed his face. “Wait, you said your lease is up next month?”

Logan tilted his head slightly. “Yes. Why?”

“Two of my roommates are moving out at the end of this month,” Patton said eagerly. “It’ll just be my other roommate and I left, but it’s a four bedroom house. You guys would be more than welcome to move in. Rent is real cheap when it’s split between four people!”

Virgil and Logan exchanged a glance. Then, Logan asked, “And your remaining roommate would be… amenable to Virgil and I joining your household?”

“Oh, absolutely! Roman loves meeting new people. He likes it when the house is full.”

Virgil looked to Logan again. After a minute or so of consideration, Logan looked over to him and nodded. Virgil grinned.

“Yeah,” he said. “That sounds great.” 

**Author's Note:**

> The first panic attack starts at "And that night, he woke up screaming." and ends at "Virgil was pleasantly surprised by his new doctor." The second begins around "Virgil was standing in the bread aisle" and ends with "Patton beamed at him. 'Hey, kiddo! You were really gone there for a little bit. How are you feeling?'"
> 
> Thanks for reading! You can find me on tumblr @threecrowsinatrenchcoat, please come and yell with me/at me.
> 
> I'm sorry for the complete exclusion of Roman from this one. I tried to include him, I really really did. But he is so hard for me to write. I may one day attempt to write a prequel focused on the twins, but no promises on that one. 
> 
> I have a new AU idea I want to start working on, so this is probably my last update to this series for now. However if you have any ideas or prompts, feel free to send them my way, and I may be sufficiently motivated to write some more to this 'verse in the future! Thank you to everyone for your comments and encouragement through this series. <3 Hope to see you again in the next one!
> 
> Title from the Bright Eyes song of the same name, from Virgil's playlist.


End file.
